


It's Not Funny Anymore

by Edens_Spilled_Ink



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Anyway here's my garbage, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Familial support, Hurt/Comfort, I'm considering the Underage Prostitution mention as rape/non con because of the circumstances, Klaus needs a hug, M/M, No Hargreeves child left behind, Past Child Abuse, Past Underage, Prostitution, There is consent, Underage Drinking, Underage Prostitution, Underage Sex, alchoholism, but it doesn't count, enjoy, secret reveal, takes place after the white violin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-04 15:31:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17900789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edens_Spilled_Ink/pseuds/Edens_Spilled_Ink
Summary: Klaus is the lovable junkie-scamp of the Umbrella Academy, the one everybody cracks jokes about - until the Hargreeves siblings learn something about his life that he's purposely hidden from them. Something impossible to laugh at.- In which Klaus is caught whoring himself for drug money, and his issues become impossible to make light of.





	1. Whatever You Need

_ “I feel like we’re missing someone,” _ Allison broke through the chatter with her notepad, arm and arm with Luther with a strawberry ice cream dripping into a sticky puddle on her hand in the warm summer-night heat.

Lucifer looked around, taking inventory like a teacher on a field trip. Finally, it dawned on him, and he pulled away from Allison harshly. “Oh my god, we forgot Klaus!” His vanilla ice cream fell to the ground.

“He’d probably just show up high, then make us pay of his ice cream, then bail,” Five continued lapping at his, shaking of Klaus’ absence and going about his daily business, like usual. It worked before, didn’t it?

“No,” Diego stepped in front of the group. “It’s a family outing, remember? We made a deal, everyone’s invited-” he gestured to Vanya, “we don’t leave people out anymore.”

“Diego,” Five reasoned, “it’s 12am on a friday night. Klaus is probably partying somewhere, for all we know. He’s probably high out of his mind, you know.”

“But we didn’t invite him!” Diego turned to address all of them, “When was the last time you saw him, huh? It doesn’t matter if he’s a junkie, or a fuck up, he saved all of our  _ lives _ ! He’s our brother, and we completely forgot about him on  _ family  _ night.”

Vanya spoke up, her voice still quiet - but she’d grown in her confidence since the apocalypse (or lack thereof), since they’d agreed to stick together. “Diego’s right, we need to include Klaus.”

Luther nodded, “We agreed: No Hargreeves child left behind,” he quoted, and Five rolled his eyes. Allison scribbled down a quick happy face on her notepad to show her support.

“Okay,” Diego rubbed his hands together, but the group looked right through him in shock and horror. “How are we going to find-”

“ _ Klaus? _ ” Vanya whispered, and Diego stared at her in disbelief. She pointed just behind him, and he turned.

Klaus looked  _ rough _ . He’d dyed his disheveled hair rainbow, but it’d turned out muddy and gross and grey - tiny, too tight leather shorts hugged his ass and a wad of bills stuck out of his back pocket, a sheer tank top covering his torso and leaving little to the imagination. He exited the limo and stepped out into the sidewalk under the streetlight, blinking at the sudden freedom with tired eyes adorned with heavy bags. A tall man wearing a large hat stepped off the wall and slapped Klaus hard on the ass, earning a quiet yelp. 

Without hesitation the man reached into his back pocket and pulled out the wad of $100 bills, replacing them with a small package containing a handful of pills. Klaus didn’t move the whole time, the man breathing hard and whispering obscene things into his ear. He was used to blocking out voices, and he didn’t hear a thing he didn't want to.

“ _ Klaus! _ ” He heard Diego yell, and turned sharply to face his siblings. Diego began to jog towards him, looking something resembling nauseous and angry at the same time, his ravenous partners in super-hood following without a second thought, casting aside ice cream and each other.

Without thinking about it, Klaus turned and ran. What else was he supposed to do? They knew he wasn’t sober, and now they knew about everything else. He took a sharp right turn into a nearby alleyway with ease - a chain-link fence interrupting the pavement halfway through.

“Klaus!” Luther boomed from behind him, and Klaus pretended he was a cop. That’s what he would tell the man in the big hat, too, that the cops had come and he’d needed to lose them. That’s why he ran. He hopped from a trash can, on to a dumpster, and over the fence, reaching the main road just in time to hear it come away behind him with a loud  _ clang _ .

“Fuck you, Luther!” He yelled over his shoulder, barely dodging a cab and a black mini-van as he threw himself into the intersection.

“Klaus, don’t you fucking  _ dare  _ run into traffic!” That was Diego. Klaus dodged a late-night bus filled with other junkies.

“Too late!” He called back, jumping right over a parked car on the other side. Meanwhile, his siblings were gaining on him, their mass stopping traffic almost long enough to catch up.

“I swear to god, I will throw this knife!”

“No you won’t!” He shoved his way into the 24 hour diner with the dodgy sign, throwing himself over the counter to the horrified screams of the wait-staff. It was almost like dancing. Sinking behind the counter top, he took a moment to catch his breath.

The bell chimed, and Luther’s voice carried through the tiled walls. “We’re not mad! We just want to help!”

“You think that he thinks we’re angry?” Vanya questioned, and Diego shook his head.

“Klaus, we’re not mad. Let’s just talk, like adults!” Diego tried.

Klaus snorted, “That is such bullshit!” He yelled, making a break for the staff door.

“Shit!” Luther yelled, and soon the sound of four bodies hitting the ground on the other side of the counter broke, and the staff door was no sooner shut than it was swung open again. Klaus shoved his way through the small kitchen, knocking over food and knives and pots into his siblings’ path as he passed, smashing through the back door and into the alleyway.

Wait  _ four  _ bodies? Klaus sprinted full speed towards the mouth of the alley.  _ Where’s Five? _ “Fuck!”

Five appeared in front of him in an instant, blocking his path as he skidded to a halt to avoid a catastrophic collision. “Surprise,” the kid said dryly, wiping ice cream residue off his fingers with a napkin.

Then somebody was behind him, pushing him up against the wall hard with hair-covered hands. Luther.  “Where the fuck have you been, Five?” Diego shouted from somewhere behind them.

“I was finishing my ice cream!” Five defended, a shrug in his voice. Luther pushed Klaus harder into the brick, squeezing his wrists with superhuman strength that threatened to break bones?

“Why’d you run?” Luther demanded, and twisted Klaus’ wrists when he just got weak mumbling and a giggling  _ ‘I thought you weren’t mad’ _ in response.

“Hey, you’re hurting me!” Klaus whined, trying to push Luther off of him with sheer force alone, but the man only doubled down and pushed harder, squeezed tighter.

“Why the fuck did you run! We’re family!” Luther ground out. Fuck, he was pissed.

Klaus laughed nervously, tears pricking at his eyes - he was kind of scared now. “Luther, seriously!” He squealed, panicking. “Stop it!”

“Luther, cut it out!” Diego tried, and Luther narrowed his eyes.

“He ran from us!”

“Seriously Luther,” there was something that vaguely resembled concern in Five’s voice, “cut it out, you’re going to snap his wrist.”

“Oh my god,” Vanya breathed, likely on the verge of a panic attack, “what is even happening?”

It was Allison that had to get him off, obviously, pulling him away with ease - by then it was too late, however, and Klaus had already started sobbing with fear. Luther’s gaze softened. “What have I done?” He whispered, and Allison lead him away - just around the corner, so everybody could calm down.

“You okay?” Diego tried and, even though he was still sobbing, Klaus nodded as he skidded down the wall and drew his knees up to his chest. Diego approached him slowly and with care, kneeling in front of him. “Hey, little bro,” he tried, “What happened? You were doing so well, you were  _ sober _ ,” he was confused, Klaus could hear it in his voice. Confused and frustrated - and Klaus couldn’t blame him, I mean, he was sick of his own shit too. Every word felt like a kick in the gut.

“And now I’m not,” Klaus said simply. And he wasn’t. In fact, he’d done like three lines of coke before he even left the limo - and that was  _ after  _ the party.

“Why?” Vanya spoke up quietly, and Five shuffled.

“I could have just given you money, you know,” Five said uncomfortably, not sure of what to do. He was trying to be better at this whole family and companionship thing, but he  _ definitely  _ didn’t sign up for  _ this _ .

“I would rather buy you drugs than… Than…” Diego was scared if he said another word he might throw something.

“I thought it was funny.”

“What?” Everybody else said in unison, staring down at Klaus in disbelief.

“What the hell, Klaus! This isn’t a joke!” Vanya added as Allison and Luther turned the corner, joining the opposing forces.

“You all thought it was funny before,” Klaus sighed. He was so sick of this. How could they be so blind?

Diego sat beside him, fidgeting with his hands. “Well, that was before-”

“Nothing’s changed,” Klaus interrupted him, addressing all of them now. “It was always like this, you guys just didn’t care - and you should go back to not caring, if you ask me. It looks better on you.”

_ “Of course we care,” _ Allison scribbled,  _ “we’ve always cared, we’re your family!” _

“Ben didn’t stop you?” Diego was confused. Ben wouldn’t let this happen, not to Klaus.

“Ben’s gone,” Klaus said emptily, “I did too much E one night so now I can’t see him, and without him I can’t get sober enough to get him back.” He laughed. “It’s a vicious cycle.”

“How long?” Vanya interrogated, but leaned back, almost as if she didn’t want to know. “How long have you been....”

Klaus remained quiet, and Diego held his hand. “It’s okay,” Diego whispered, “we just want to help. Whatever you need.”


	2. You Go Home, Okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a backstory chapter. Rape scene - beware.

The first time Klaus had sex for drugs was also the night he lost his virginity. He was thirteen, and Ben had died a week earlier. Dear old dad had just indirectly beat him within an inch of his life after Pogo caught the preteen with an eighth of weed (making the siblings spar with Luther was his favourite punishment), and Klaus had just dragged himself out of his bedroom window and through the doors of some slum bar on the other side of town, where he knew his siblings wouldn’t find him. Not that they would come looking - they’d given that up when they were twelve, and sneaking out after him to drag him home had just earned them more “training” (torture) quality-time with dad.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing out so late? Won’t your parents come looking for you?” A older man with greying hair sat next to him and placed a warm hand on his thigh, against the black leather of his jeans. Klaus keened at the touch - it was so comforting, so kind, and his eyes fluttered shut.

“What parents?” Klaus giggled, already drunk on the one beer he’d ordered and only drank half of. He liked the fizz - it burnt the back of his tongue like soda, or popping candy. Dad never let them have soda.

“Isn’t that a cute laugh?” The man praised to the man next to him, who waved him off with a hand and whispered something along the lines of  _ creeper  _ under his breath. Dad had always told Klaus his laugh was too girly.  _ Men don’t giggle, _ he heard in his head. “Why don’t I pay for your drink?”

“That’d be nice,” Dad had stopped buying him things when he was ten. Something about him learning to earn his own money.

Time passed, and at least ten shot-glasses littered the counter in front of him. He didn’t even know what he’d been drinking, but he was fuzzy and motion sick. Was he moving? A firm hand grasped the small of his back and he glanced around at the spinning room - the only stable thing was the bartender, who eyed him from across the room with suspicion. “You okay, kid?” The man asked from miles away.

Before Klaus could answer he was bent over a sink in a white room, marker staining the tile and mirrors with what he supposed was writing. The man caressed him like he was precious and unwrapped him like a present, whispering sweet praise in his ear - so even though he didn’t know what was happening, knew he didn’t like the feeling of the man’s dirty hands on him, he let it continue. Squeezed his eyes shut and listened to the whispers of “god, you’re so pretty” and “oh Jesus himself musta sent me an  _ angel _ ,” and pretended it was dad saying those things, ignoring the feeling of hands on his skin except for the warmth of them. His fuzzy head lulled forward and hit the countertop, and men of all shapes of sizes entered the pocket dimension and left just as quickly, grumbling curses in low voices. He was almost a little ashamed.

The strange room reminded him vaguely of his room at home, quotes and thoughts and doodles littered across the tile - when the man’s hands touched him in places that made him more and more nauseous and scared Klaus tried to read some of the writing, but realized with a giggle that he’d forgotten how to read and straight up  _ didn’t care _ . So he focused on the squiggles instead as the strange man he still didn’t know the name of worked him open and pushed into him with brute force, grunting and rutting against his ass like an animal.

“You don’t got a daddy at home, do ya?” At that Klaus raised his cheek from the marble countertop and looked into the mirror and back at the man’s red face, only vaguely interested in what was going on in the real world. He just wanted it to be over - but he didn’t. He liked the man’s kind words and gentle touches, liked his warm hands and the firmness of him. But if Klaus liked it so much, why was he crying? He supposed it didn’t matter, and the man didn’t seem to think it mattered either -  so he didn’t mention it.

The man grabbed a hold of his neck and squeezed so hard he could barely breathe, pulling him up - Klaus definitely didn’t like that, so he cried harder. “I asked you a question, pretty boy.”

Klaus shook his head, and the man grinned.

“I can be your daddy, you know,” he grumbled, and leaned over him to whisper in his ear. “How would you like that? I could be your daddy right now, take real good care of you. Is that what you want?”

Klaus nodded, but the man wouldn’t let go of his throat until he shifted uncomfortably and choked out a quick  _ yes, daddy _ . Once free, he lulled his head forward again, back against the sink. The man pressed down on his head so his cheek was pressed against the cold stone. He rather liked the sound of that. Someone taking care of him… and this was all they wanted? He could live with that, maybe.

Maybe he’d ask dad if this was what he wanted this whole time when he got home, if he’d take care of Klaus if he just-

A wave of pleasure came upon him so quick he barely knew what happened. Did he just come? Was this sex? He’d orgasmed before, obviously, half-heartedly to one of Luther’s magazines with naked ladies and articles on how to ‘dirty talk’ all over the inside. He didn’t even know two boys could have sex, how had no one told him this? Dad had held mandatory sex-education classes after Allison and Luther started sneaking off into dark corners to play alone, taught by Pogo (obviously Dad would  _ never  _ touch the subject himself. It was beneath him) - but not once had anyone mentioned that two boys could have sex.  _ Does that mean they can get married too? _ The thought made Klaus warm and fuzzy inside in a way that alcohol never could.

The man was done soon afterwards, filling him up with something warm and wet that made Klaus think for a second that the man might have torn him open, and now he was bleeding bad. If he was, the man who made Klaus call him daddy didn’t seem to care - so Klaus assumed he wasn’t. Dads care if their children are bleeding. At least normal dads do.

A large hand pressed something down on the countertop in front of his face, and tapped it a few times: a bag with three small white tablets, and a $5 bill. “You take this and have yourself a good night,” the man growled into his ear. The clattering of a belt being done up - Klaus almost sighed in relief. “Get yourself a bag of candy or something, huh? Those tablets are called E, they aint candy, okay? You take one every 12 hours at the most, or you’ll die.” 

Klaus rather liked the thought of that right then. Who knows, maybe then he’d see Ben.

The man’s weight was gone from on top of him and Klaus finally had the room to pull his leather jeans up, hands shaking. “Oh, and kid?” Klaus looked towards the man, who’d paused by the door. He was grinning. “I told you daddy would take care of you,” he said, then left, and then Klaus was on the floor swallowing one of the pills and tucking the $5 bill into his wallet, sobbing heavy and hard.

“ _ Holy shit, _ ” Ben whispered from behind him against the wall, and Klaus snapped his head around to see him so fast he almost broke his neck. It was Ben, as he looked the morning before the mission that killed him, whole and pure and  _ Ben _ . “You can see me? You can see me now?” Was the next thing Ben said as he fell to the ground and crawled towards Klaus and tried to pull him close, but his hands passed right through him. That was the last time he ever saw Ben cry.

“Ben? You’re here?”

“What the  _ fuck _ ,” Ben was pulling at his hair, staring at the door as if afraid the man was going to come back in and do it all again. “What the fuck was that!”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Klaus whispered hoarsely, poking at the forming bruises on his throat.

“We have to go home,” Ben tried. “Klaus, we have to go home now. We have to tell Dad and-”

At the thought of Dad, what he would do if he found out, Klaus’ expression hardened, jaw set - and that was the last time Ben ever saw Klaus serious. “I can’t go home,” he said simply. “I can’t go home ever again.” And then the E kicked in, and Ben disappeared.

The bartender found him on the bathroom floor hours later took him home that night, put a blanket over him and let him sleep on his couch and looked away when he cried. He didn’t ask for anything in return, and as a gesture of good faith Klaus popped another pill and left early the next morning.

Two days later in the middle of the night, as Klaus’ skin crawling and on fire with withdrawals and he became sick of sleeping in alleyways, Ben appeared just in time to plead with him as he wandered into the street and begged strangers for money. For drugs, pain meds, $40 bucks for a hotel room - anything. He’d take  _ anything _ , he told them, and he’d do  _ anything  _ for it. He kept weeping and wandering and begging all night until, finally, a kindly man with a large bushy beard took him to a motel and had rough, painful sex with him. Ben waited outside until it was over, and then the kindly man left enough coke for a couple bumps and half a sandwich on the bedside table. Klaus could live with this, maybe. He could survive on it, at least - get used to it.

And he did. For the longest time (the next 17 years) Klaus would spend the day high as a kite, and at night he would go home with somebody he knew had a little extra to spare and stay the night - or a man would buy them a motel room, sometimes a hotel room, and enough drugs to last him the next day. His favourite was the parties though, with an endless cheese-plate esque cocktail of drugs and a spare room he could crash in, most nights. So many warm bodies. Every night, someone new and alive and warm to drown out the dead. Every night, new praise. It was heaven  _ and  _ hell.

He and Ben never talked about the older man in the slum bar across town, the night he couldn’t go home.

 

“What can I say? They look the same!” Klaus shouted into the emptiness of the trashy bar.

Diego rolled his eyes. “Klaus, the Olsen twins are  _ not  _ the same person edited into the same shot - and of course they look the same, they’re  _ twins _ ! Where do you even come up with this stuff?”

Klaus giggled drunkenly, “ _ I hear whispers, _ ” he quoted Game of Thrones.

“How did you even know that quote? You don’t have a T.V. - let alone HBO,” Diego laughed, but Klaus was watching some drunk kid at the bar with a large, bulging satchel full of clothes - maybe fourteen. The man beside her put his hand on the small of her back.

Klaus narrowed his eyes. “You’d be surprised how many motels have HBO- If you’ll excuse me, I have to use the little boys room,” he quipped as usual, standing up as the man led the stumbling child into the bathroom.

“ _ Klaus- _ ” Ben tried, stepping in front of him - but Klaus walked straight through. “You know I hate it when you do that!” He called after him.

By the time Diego started to wonder what was taking Klaus so long and went to yell at him for shooting up in the bathroom, he opened the door and found his ‘little brother’, always so empathetic and scared, slamming the man’s head into the porcelain sink over and over until his nose was crushed against his face like a pig’s snout and his teeth fell out of his mouth and down the drain, blood smeared across the white of the tile and the door and Klaus’ chest, face, and hands.

The girl watched from the corner, trembling and shoving her shirt back on - the man tried to put his flaccid dick back in his pants, but was cut off when Klaus grabbed him by the hair and threw him clean into the bathroom stall, the door coming away at the impact.

“Holy shit,  _ Klaus _ ,” Diego said breathlessly, and Klaus snapped his head up to look at him. Then he brushed himself off, and laughed humorlessly. Ben shook his head.

“Oh  _ you know _ , I was just… playing rough with  _ Jared  _ here - just a little harmless fun, right  _ Jared _ ? No need to get worked up,” Klaus hissed, and the man limp inside the stall sobbed and nodded feverishly. “See? Great. Everything’s fine.”

“Thank you,” the girl whispered, and all the Hargreeves boys present turned to her. Klaus lit himself a cigarette and stumbled towards ‘Jared’ and took a $100 bill from the man’s wallet, handing it to the girl.

“There, buy yourself a bag of candy or something,” Klaus laughed, and Ben smiled to himself sadly.

Diego shuffled out of the way uncomfortably as the girl stumbled past him, and couldn’t take his eyes off of his brother, the ‘least dangerous’ of the Hargreeves siblings. Minus Vanya, but she didn't count.

“Oh, and kid?” Klaus called after the kid and she turned, staring at him with wide doe-eyes.

Klaus took another drag of his cigarette and bent down to put it out on Jared’s leg, which was sticking out of the stall at a wrong angle. “You, uh, you go home - okay?” He said, and the girl clutched her satchel and looked confused. “You go home and tell your parents what happened. They’ll help - promise.”

She nodded to herself and left, and later that day so did Diego. That night, a man took Klaus to a motel and finished half an hour later. That night, Klaus cried during sex for the first time since he was thirteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everybody who left me nice comments and kudos on the last chapter! Sorry this one is so bitter sweet... But I threw in a little catharsis at the end so it's not as grim-dark. Enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated - I worked hard on this, so I hope ya'll like it!
> 
> Edit: Heyo! Thank you everybody for waiting so patiently! The next chapter (and ending) of this fic will be up April 23, 2019! (Tomorrow)


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